


Whoops

by Wrathofscribbles



Series: Shipping words [15]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: "I wish..."Did no-one ever tell you to be careful what you wish for, Noct?
Series: Shipping words [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1227737
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Whoops

**Author's Note:**

> **Big bold reminder that Final Fantasy XV and all of its content is the property of Square Enix.** I just play in the sandbox they've kindly created for the fans.
> 
> This was supposed to be a ship-orientated thing, and then _this_ happened. Whoops indeed. I promise there'll be some ship content in the second chapter.

He gets his first inkling of something being... _amiss_ the very second he wakes up. _Where's the sunlight?_

He's in the wrong room. Not just the room, as a matter of fact, but the corridor, the floor, the _building._

He fights for a moment to find the parting in the drapes before sticking his head out to peer at his surroundings and - sure enough, there's the confirmation. What the _fuck_ is he doing in Noct's quarters? They didn't spend the night together, as evidenced by the distinct _lack_ of Noct grumbling a protest at his side, burrowing under the quilt if only to hide from the morning for another ten minutes.

He gets his _second_ alarm bell shortly thereafter when he yawns, scrubbing his hand over his face - the callouses on his palm and fingers all wrong. The _size_ of his hand all wrong. The _lack of stubble on his cheek all wrong._

_The hell?_

His third heads' up - the stride. Shorter in account _of legs not his own_ , and quickly aborted when pain lances white-hot and _vicious_ from right hip to opposite shoulderblade. He takes one endless moment to endure it, one heartbeat or one hundred or one thousand, hands braced on too-lean thighs and under shorts too short (not his style, but he knows it so well), _breathes_ nice and slow and deep just like he does when he's caught Noctis by the shoulders and held him upright with the exact same pain.

_Not possible. Not possible. Not possible._

And yet, when he eventually manages to shuffle into the en-suite and sear his eyeballs with the sudden flood of light, there's the proof staring back at him in the mirror. Oh it's possible alright, and it's happened. He went to sleep in his own bed, in his own place, in his own body, only to wake up in Noct's _everything._

* * *

Elsewhere, in the Amicitia household, Noctis splashes water onto his face with _spade hands_ , runs his fingers up and through hair he's played with before, braided before, _pulled_ before.

Gladio's face is still the one in the mirror when he chances another look.

_Oh **shit.**_

* * *

_"You mean it actually_ worked?!"

"It would seem so, yeah. I just... uh... don't know... how to... reverse it?"

_"Make another wish? Maybe they'll cancel each other out?"_

"I don't have access to my magic anymore, Prompto."

 _"... Gladio's gonna kill you_ so dead _, man."_


End file.
